Keepin' it Pretty
by FrozenGlitter
Summary: Ever wonder how Sam and Dean manager to stay so beautiful, even with all the fights they get into? This story explains how!


Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Dr. Flububber.

Sam and Dean staggered into their motel room. It was 3 am and they had just gotten in after battling a ghost that was hell bent on smashing everything in sight. It was gone now, the bones were taken care of and the family they saved was confused, but greatful, but boy were Sam and Dean beaten up. Sam had gotten smashed in the face by a chair and Dean had been punched repeatedly, then thrown into not one, not two, but _three _different walls. Just a typical night.

Dean collapsed on his bed and moaned. "Aww, man, my back's sore," he said. "Even my ass feels broken."

Sam examined himself in the mirror. "I dink by bose ids boken," he said, wiggling his nose back and forth gingerly with his fingers. A sharp needle of pain shot through him and he yelped. Yep, definitely broken.

Both men were sweaty, bloody, and covered in bruises and cuts. Sam was pretty sure that in addition to his broken nose, he might have a dislocated jaw and he could tell that Dean was going to have two black eyes and need stitches in his lip.

"You look like crap, Sammy," Dean said weakly. "Oh yeah?" Sam said. "You dob't wook so hot yoursewf."

"I know what we need to do," Dean said. He looked at Sam. Sam looked at Dean. Both men nodded.

"Dr. Flububber," they both said at the same time.

It was a well kept secret by the boys that for the couple of years they'd been hunting together they'd both been seeing a Dr. Flububber in NY occasionally to get themselves "fixed up". They were pretty sure the elderly plastic surgeon was working some kind of magic, but they didn't care. The important thing was, they'd walk into his office looking like puke warmed over, and leave looking like Hollywood leading men. Dr. Flububber's services didn't come cheap, usually he made them dress in silly costumes and dance and sometimes sing for him while he filmed it. The doc had assured them there was nothing sexual about it, it was purely for his amusement, and the brothers felt ridiculous doing it, but they did it anyway, so they could continue to look smoking hot.

So after a night zonked out on stolen painkillers, Sam and Dean hopped in the car and headed east. They made great time and soon were in Dr. Flububber's office. After a brief wait in the waiting room, the doc came out.

Dr. Flububber was, by his account, 75, but looked not a day older than 30. When he came into a room, you could hear choirs singing and light glinted off his teeth. Women fainted just at the sound of his voice.

"Hello boys," he said when he saw Sam and Dean. Thud, thud, thud went the receptionists and nurses as they all collapsed. "You two look awful."

"We feew awfuw," Sam said.

"So what's it going to cost this time, Doc?" Dean asked, squinting through his swollen eyes.

"Well," Dr. Flububber said, thinking a moment, "I have a great idea!"

Ten minutes later, Sam and Dean were in the doctor's film studio/treatment room. Dean was wearing a sparkly pink tutu and a gorilla mask, and a long flowing red wig. He had big bird shoes on his feet. Sam wore a Hannah Montana tshirt and lime green speedos, and sparkly red lipstick. The two were dancing and singing My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music.

"Great, great, Bravo, excellent!" cheered Dr. Flububber when they were done.

"Man, that was embarassing!" Dean said. "Do we really _have _to do this?"

"Do you want your pretty face back?" the doctor asked. The boys noded sheepishly. "Well then, yes, you have to do it." He clapped. "Just one more song..."

A few hours later Sam and Dean were done. They woke up in the treatment room. A cursory check in the mirror told each man that yes, Dr. Flububber had done it again and both brothers were back to their usual, inhumanly perfect model looks.

"Well," Dean said, wondering if he should buy sunglasses before looking in the mirror, as his reflection was so blazingly handsome, "it looks like our work here is done. To the ladies?"

"To the ladies!" Sam said, mesmerized by the sight of his own muscles.

And the two brothers walked off to the car to once again drive into the sunset.


End file.
